Absence of Faith
by Tess DiCorsi
Summary: Post-"Spoils of War" one-shot. The long trip home


**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine.

**SUMMARY**: The long trip home. One shot.

* * *

After they landed at Camp Chapman's helipad, Deeks was put in a truck with Callen, Sam, Makar and Khatira. Sabatino and Sajadi were loaded into ambulances while the medics took Kensi and Jack into this truck with a cross on it that reminded him of something out of a "MASH" episode. When they got to the base Kensi called home since November, the medical staff took the wounded into what looked like a medical building while he, Sam and Callen went into the NCIS mobile unit truck.

On a decent sized plasma in the center of the truck were Hetty, Eric and Nell. Nell looked haunted. The thousand mile stare from the early part of her visit to the ER after she was attacked was back and back with a vengeance. Hetty looked tired but relieved. Eric was probably on his third Red Bull, eyes darting around the room holding off his exhaustion for another few hours. The Director was linked in from his office in DC. Deeks, along with Sam, Callen and Granger were still in their field garb. Deeks thought it was 4PM or so in this God-forsaken place. So it was around 6:30AM for Vance and well after closing time at home.

Home. They were all going home.

Callen gave the sitrep. It was a PG version of what led to Sam, Callen, Granger, Khatira and Sajadi on a hill, outnumbered fifteen to one, and what happened with him, Makar and the blind cleric. The Director of the CIA was scrambling, according to Vance. The ass covering probably started the minute Langley heard Sabatino was alive and able to talk. Sabatino could be the good guy in this. Well, if there were any good guys in this - more like monsters, puppet-masters, traitors and pawns.

When they got to the mess, Sam sat with Kensi at a distant table as he and Callen got them food from the camp's spread. Kensi's return was a cause for celebration for those stationed at Camp Chapman - there would be ice cream sandwiches for everyone - even if the cause of the celebration was on her way home. A rescue and not a recovery was a win, a big win. Sam's scowl kept most of the camp's well-meaning looky-loos away. One young Marine moved toward the table but Sam starting to stand and shaking his head had the man quickly returning to his buddies.

Kensi picked at the somewhat dry turkey and ate her mashed potatoes and vegetable melody. The package of six Oreo cookies went into her sweater pocket. Deeks wasn't hungry - he ate enough of the cleric's food. Food he realized now was the cleric's last meal. Sam and Callen both cleaned their trays.

When Kensi excused herself to use the restroom, Sam acted as escort. Callen turned to him. "She's alive; she's going to be OK."

Deeks just nodded. "Do me a favor."

"Sure."

"No jokes. If you think humor helps, it doesn't. It made me wonder why everyone thought last spring was funny and there was something wrong with me for not getting the joke."

Callen was caught off guard. "Good to know."

When Kensi was back at the table, Sam took off. He returned and gave her the bottled water. "Drink this," Sam told her. When Kensi started to object, Sam insisted. "It's a long flight to Edwards, you can't get dehydrated."

She opened the bottle and swallowed about half. Sam picked up the bottle and tucked it into his jacket. "You'll finish the rest on the way to the airport. Everyone ready?"

Deeks was ready. Oh God, was he ready.

Sam lead them through the mess to a pale blue Volkswagen minibus that Deeks thought was built a year to two before he was born. Normally, he'd have some sort of joke about The Mystery Machine from "Scooby Doo" but he just wasn't feeling it. Sam and Callen got into the last row of seats while he and Kensi sat in the middle row. Granger was in the front passenger seat with Makar driving. Their bags were strapped to the roof.

Kensi leaned against him the minute the minibus started rumbling down the road. He took her hand in his and she tilted her head against him arm. He took some comfort in her touch. He prayed she was doing the same.

When they arrived at the airfield, a damaged tank was being towed up the ramp of the C-17. Once they got out of the minibus, Sam took Kensi aside and handed her the water bottle. She started to sip it.

"I'm glad you got your partner back," Makar told Deeks as he shook his hand. "You're a good man, you deserve the happy ending."

"I'm not so sure about the good man part but she deserves the happy ending," Deeks answered. "But thanks for all your help. If you're ever in LA..."

"You, me, a USC football game. God, I miss American football. But it's a plan. Good luck, man."

"Same to you, my brother," Deeks smiled as Maker walked back to the driver's side of the van. As Granger spoke to one of the US military types near the plane, Deeks started helping Callen unload the bags from the roof. Deeks took his bag, Sam's gear and the small backpack Kensi had. Callen grumbled about carrying Granger's bag but there was no malice in it. The two made their way to the plane with Sam guiding Kensi to the ramp just a few steps behind them.

Granger finished his conversation with the uniformed officer by pointing to Deeks. The officer jogged over to Deeks and asked, "Sir, can you come with me?"

Deeks looked at Callen. "Make sure I'm on the plane before you guys leave."

Callen chuckled and nodded.

"Dev Murphy, sir," the officer stuck out his hand, "and I'm actually taking you to the plane to show you something. You're Agent Blye's partner, correct?"

"Yes, Marty Deeks." Deeks shifted Sam's bag from his right hand to his left so he could shake the man's hand. Murphy took the bag.

"You're LAPD?" Murphy asked as they walked up the ramp.

"Yes."

"NYPD, the Four-Four in the Bronx. I'm doing my reserves rotation. I'm with the Seabees. We're widening the tarmac here."

Deeks put the bags on a row of airplane seats in the middle of the plane so he could talk Murphy. "Good to know."

"Your partner made me a lot of money this year and I wanted to pay her back."

"Kensi?"

"Come," Murphy said as they walked past nine rows of seats, the rest of Kensi's gear brought over by two NCIS Agents based at Camp Chapman and two more damaged military vehicles. In the back of the plane, strapped to the ground was a wooden bed frame with guard rails, a decent sized mattress with bedding and two pillows. Murphy pulled back the sheets to show a seat belt cut through the mattress. "Because, as you saw today, our neighbors here aren't the friendliest sort, we have to finish work here 90-minutes before sunset for safety reasons. Most days, we're back at the base by three in the afternoon. Unless she had some other duties, your Agent Blye would be throwing knives when we got back to camp. My dad was into knives, tried to teach me but I'm not a knife guy. I'm a gun guy."

"Kensi likes her knives but is also a gun person."

"She's good with those knives. So good, we started wagering - though I'll deny that if anyone asks. I always bet on your partner. I always won. When I heard she was missing, I told the guys that when she was rescued, because anyone that good with knives would be tough enough to survive until she was found, I'd make sure she went home comfortable."

"I don't know what to say except thank you."

"Tell Agent Blye that she has the genuine Murphy bed. If she's ever in New York, the Four-Four includes Yankee Stadium. I'll get her on the field. It's the least I can do."

"Thank you, Lt. Murphy."

"Dev," he clapped Deeks on the back before turning to leave. "Safe home."

"Be safe Dev." Deeks watched the man jog off the plane. Murphy was barely off the plane when the ramp started to close. Deeks made his way to Kensi - Sam and Callen were a row behind them. Sam passed him two bottles of water. Sitting next to Kensi, Deeks said, "Lt. Murphy made you a gift."

"Me?" Kensi asked.

"Seems a couple of the Seabees were making book on your three o'clock knife throwing practice. And you have an invite to Yankee Stadium."

"I just want to go home," she said as she took Deeks's hand. The plane started down the runway.

"We're on our way."

Once they were safely in the air, Deeks took Kensi to the back of the plane. Kensi didn't want to use the genuine Murphy bed but Deeks insisted. Lt. Murphy made sure a row of seats were facing the bed, so he made himself comfortable. She was asleep in less than ten minutes.

Callen made his way to the back of the plane about a half-an-hour later carrying a Panasonic Toughbook laptop. "Sweet set-up," he commented as he saw the bed.

"Kensi wowed the Seabees with her knife throwing skills. They offered this in tribute. The Lieutenant is NYPD. I keep telling you guys, cops get things done."

Callen passed the laptop to him. "You did good today. The timing of the helicopter couldn't have been better."

Deeks gave him a small smile. "I don't know, a couple more minutes, I think you would have had them."

"Nell sent you some info she thinks will be helpful with Kensi. It's password protected for some reason."

"She's always getting on me for leaving my laptop opened on my desk. She thinks it should lock after a minute of not being used. I walk on the wild side and go five minutes. She's getting even." While that was true, he had a feeling Nell was passing on some information for his eyes only.

"If you want to get some shut eye, I'd be happy to sit with her. I'd wake you up..."

"I was sitting in a house with food, water and mostly indoor plumbing, you were hiking through the Hindu Kush. Thanks but I'm good."

"Sam's sleeping in one of the jeeps. He carried that girl six miles and took two breathers. Never complained. You can keep the laptop. If Granger sees it, he'll probably want me to work on the after action report," Callen joked before he walked away.

Deeks saw the e-mail "Confidential: Det. M. Deeks" and opened it. His ridiculous NCIS password - 16 characters, at least three numbers, at least two upper case letters with no duplication and changed every 45-days - was LeBronJam3sC1ip5 and usually took two tries. Today, it was three. He blamed the altitude.

Nell wanted a call the minute they landed at Edwards. She wanted it to her personal cellphone and she wanted only to speak to him. Not Callen or Sam, just him. She needed to know how Kensi was, how he was and how things went. She told him in the e-mail she trusted him to tell the truth and she was going to trust him with the truth. There was an attached, password protected file called "Aletheia" at the end of the e-mail.

The file was an intelligence report from Nell on "The White Ghost" mission and the involvement of Special Agent Kensi Blye probably written ten minutes after Callen's sitrep. Nell explained what Deeks already knew - Jack Simon, Kensi's Jack, went to Afghanistan as a military contractor and was recruited by the CIA. After meeting a woman and marrying, he was an ex-military contractor and former CIA. Forces inside the CIA couldn't tolerate the fact that he was former. A false legend was created - Westerner gone native turned terrorist. The CIA allowed Kensi's predecessor to be captured, tortured and beheaded to help sell the story.

Hetty, Nell explained, sent Kensi in as the sniper to hopefully expose those forces inside the CIA and protect Simon. Hetty worked with Jack Simon while he was with the CIA and was aware of his past with Kensi. Kensi was sent to Afghanistan to protect Jack. By embedding Kensi in country as the sniper for the White Ghost mission, Hetty knew Kensi would never take the shot without seeing who the target was. Hetty was sure Kensi would never shoot Jack.

Deeks was furious. Hetty sent Kensi, who they all saw cry in the boatshed over the loss of Jack Simon, to eventually face him. And Hetty never told Kensi why she was assigned. The mole hunt was obviously an attempt to see if the CIA had some inside NCIS. And suddenly Granger's questions all those weeks ago about why Kensi was the agent chosen for this assignment made perfect sense. This was all Hetty's doing. My God, he spent months blaming himself and Hetty did all this. What was she thinking? Hetty sent Kensi into the hell she survived.

The long flight was going to do him the world of good. He'd probably walk in and quit right now. And not with any dignity or grace.

He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. Pulling it out there was an e-mail alert from Eric that said "read me." Well, Nell's e-mail was brought him such joy he couldn't imagine what Eric had in store to brighten his day. Eric shared his unhappiness with Hetty. Eric and Nell thought sending him the picture of Kensi was a bad idea. He also wrote to Deeks that Hetty kept the picture of Kensi on the big screen in Ops even after Nell asked her to keep it down. Eric thought Hetty's penance was to look at the damage she caused, not realizing the impact it had on the others - especially Nell who considered Kensi one of her closest friends. Nell's thousand mile stare completely made sense.

He closed his eyes and wondered how long it would take him to get back into the routine at LAPD. Bates wasn't sure about sending him back after last summer. Deeks thought he could say he gave it a few months, waited for Kensi to finish her assignment and decided to return to the Department. Made sense, he could sell that.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Kensi and realized he probably wasn't going anywhere. If she wasn't going back to NCIS, he'd be back downtown but if she was returning, and she's Kensi Blye so she would be returning, so was he. He was just going back a little wiser - with a lot more respect for the people who worked with him on the rescue and a lot less for the person who put them all here.

He signed out of the "Aletheia" e-mail - let Nell delete it on her end and guarantee it was gone - and archived Eric's before deciding standing near the bed and watching Kensi would probably prolong the life of the laptop. Hard to throw something into the plane's wall when it is out of reach.

Kensi stirred after a while. She was disoriented when she woke up but smiled a little when she realized where she was. Deeks handed her the bottle of water he had in his jacket pocket. She drank most of it - an accomplishment in Deeks's mind.

"I got sick at the mess."

"I figured that's why Sam was pushing the water so hard."

"I hadn't eaten in a few..."

"I'm sure there's food on the plane. I can..."

"No, just stay here. I'm tired," she told him as she tucked the bottle of water near the bed rail. "I want to sleep."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Sleep." And in a few minutes she was back asleep.

He didn't know how long he was standing when Sam came by with a packaged sandwich and a bottle of water. "Eat," Sam told him, pointing to the empty row of chairs.

"I'm not..."

"She's gonna need you at the top of your game. Eat."

Deeks shuffled over to the chair. The packaged sandwich was bologna and cheese. "Oscar Meyer is going to keep me on the top of my game?" he asked as he took his seat.

"You're going to only wish that was Oscar Meyer quality." Sam moved the laptop to an empty chair and sat next to Deeks. "How she's doing?"

"Woke up. Told me she got sick in the mess, drank some water and went back to sleep." Deeks tore through the sandwich. He was hungrier than he thought.

"Surprised she told you that. She specifically told me not to tell you that."

At first, he wasn't surprised but then Deeks thought maybe she wanted to be the one to tell him. "Four years after we met, maybe she's opening up to me."

"Four years, its..."

"Daniel Zuna died on April 3rd in 2010. Today's April 2nd."

"I always think you joined us in the fall."

"That's when I started being around all the time but Hetty got me reassigned the first week of April. Four years. Thanks for this," Deeks held up what was left of his sandwich - the discarded packaging.

"There's more equally awful food in a cooler up front. No fruit or anything, just sandwiches and chips."

"Whatever happened to an army travels on its stomach?"

"It is a Naval flight. We didn't travel on our stomachs," Sam joked. "Granger heard from Chapman. The men who did this," he pointed to Kensi, "six Hellfire Missiles followed by Comanche gunships with two 500-round machine guns on a turret ended their trek to Pakistan about a kilometer from the exchange site."

"All of them?"

"There's a Marine recon team there, no survivors. Did find this," Sam pulled out his phone and handed it to Deeks. The photo was Kensi's NCIS ID. "You don't seem in the mood to hear this but you did great out there today."

"I was useful, not great. I should have figured it out earlier. Should have ..."

"Don't. You'll make yourself miserable..."

"Oh, I was a misery out there today."

"They sent you the photo?"

"They did. And I'll tell you what I told Makar, I'd have cut the Mullah's head off with a razor blade if it would have gotten her back a minute earlier."

"And you think that makes you a bad man?"

"No, I think slapping him around and a half-ass attempt to water board him makes me a bad man."

"Makar said you apologized and made him dinner. Bad men don't do things like that. Good men apologize when they do the wrong thing and try to make amends. That's what you did."

"And it looks like it was the Mullah's last meal. I don't even know how I feel about that."

"Feel this - before you, Makar and the Mullah flew over the mountain, we were down to our last mag for Sajadi's weapon, a couple of handguns and knives, an axe and our bare hands. Sajadi was shot, so was Sabatino. You came up with the exchange, you stopped us from being captured and we weren't going quietly when it was time to be captured. Kensi was a woman and a great visual for the Taliban to use against the West. Simon was former CIA and God knows what he could give them. You know what Sabatino and Granger were willing to do to rescue Kensi? To stay alive?"

"Do I want to know?"

"No you don't. Believe me, Makar said you stopped and you were sorry. If you're worried about it, you're not like the men who did that to Kensi. You're not Sidorov either. He did what he did to us as a normal part of his business day. And if he lived, if he survived, he wouldn't have spent a second feeling badly about what happened to us."

"Good to know." Yeah, good to know he was better than Sidorov. There was an achievement.

"Hetty was worried about you before we left."

"Me? That's great, about eleven months too late but hey..."

"I don't..."

"I guess I'm tired of being used. Of watching people I care about being used."

"I lost you."

"Well, there's Kensi. For years, she tried to learn about her father's murder and Granger dropped all these little bread crumbs and strung her along for her entire career. She winds up getting accused of murder, nearly killed by a high power rifle as a fugitive and then in a fight to the death with her father's killer. Eighteen months later, Hetty sends her seven thousands miles from home for a surprise reunion with her former fiancé."

"Hetty knew?"

"Hetty knew. Didn't tell Kensi but Hetty knew."

"I'm sure she had..."

"Don't. Don't tell me she had her reasons. You were there that day in the boat shed. Six years later Kensi was still crying over him, over Jack. Kensi, bad-ass Kensi Blye, still wept for another person who left her without a word. And Hetty sent her here, alone, to confront that."

"You don't think she was up to it."

"I think Kensi was sent half a world away from people she cared about and trusted to live with people with their own agendas like Granger and Sabatino twenty-four/seven on an assignment where Hetty - one of the people she trusted - was lying to her by omission. She was sent out alone to kill someone she'd been told for months was a terrorist and a traitor. Only the terrorist and traitor winds up being a man she was going to marry, a man she tried to nurse back to health and a man she hadn't seen in nearly a decade. I don't think anyone on the planet is up for that Sam."

"There's no way Hetty could think it would end this way."

"How did she think this was going to end?"

"You're beginning to question Hetty's judgment."

"Not beginning," Deeks said, looking straight at Sam. "Tell me last spring you didn't have questions."

"I did."

"And."

"Michelle survived, so did I. The Iranians didn't get the bombs and Sidorov is dead."

"And you think keeping you and me strapped to chairs where a Russian psychopath and his sadistic underling were coming back for a second round of torture was a good idea?"

"I think it was the best choice but not a good one. There aren't always good choices."

"No there aren't," Deeks said. "Sorry, I don't mean to dump this all on you."

"Do me a favor," Sam asked.

"If I can."

"Don't do anything rash. I heard you offered to go back to LAPD if that meant Kensi could return. You would have gone back but she was here for other reasons."

"Yeah, I would have gone back. I've thought for months that she was here because of me. I told Hetty that. And she didn't do a damn thing to make me think otherwise. So when I saw Kensi dead with her throat cut, when I saw her walking back to the helicopter so badly beaten, when she collapsed in my arms like I've never seen before telling me what happened was so bad - yeah, I thought that was all my fault. And the one person who knew I thought this was fine letting me think that. Just like she was fine leaving you and me with the men who tortured us while she dangled Michelle in front of Sidorov. Just like she was fine with keeping Callen away from the investigation about the man who might have been his father."

"Deeks..."

"No, Sam, I'm not doing anything rash. But sooner or later, I am going to do something because I can deal with the lies from the bad guys - they're the bad guys. I don't like what the lies from the good guys are doing to me and what they're making me."

"You're a good cop and you're a good man. Take that anger and figure out how you can make it work for her. Because, ultimately, that's what you need to be all about. You got on that plane at LAX and all you could hope was that you'd be bringing Kensi home alive. You're doing that right now. So figure out how my make her homecoming as easy as possible," Sam stood.

"Thanks man. And Sam, thank you for fighting for her. I saw your face when Kensi said thanks. How it wasn't something you expected or even wanted but thank you."

Sam patted his shoulder. "We take care of our own Deeks. We're all we got," Sam said just before he returned to Callen.

Yeah, Sam - Deeks thought to himself - but the we was becoming the four of us here and the two up in Ops. Everyone else was playing them.

Kensi started to thrash around. Deeks was by her side, leaning over to hold her hand. "I got you Kens, I've always got you."

"Oh God, what did I do?" Kensi asked.

He climbed over the rail and held her as she sat up. "Shhh, shhh, You trusted us to find you. You stayed alive so we could find you. And I'll always find you."

And he would. It was the only thing he left Afghanistan knowing for sure.

-30-

As always, thanks for reading and all your support in the past. I am so grateful.


End file.
